Day 26: WWJE, or First Day On My Own

By the end of my first day without the diet center, I texted how it sucks being on a diet to my "low-carb-my-way" brother.  You just can’t look forward to meals like before because they’ll never be the same.  You’ll never experience the bliss of a mind-numbing food coma, eat ice cream, or give yourself an instant carb high with Sun Chips. 

My brother’s response was that all the deprivation is worth the long-term result and that when the going gets tough, he uses the WWJE method he learned from his gardener, Migel,—“What Would Jesus Eat?”  According to the gardener, “Jesus ate no carbs and neither should you!”

“What????” I texted back.  “Jesus drank wine (carbs) and broke loafs of bread (mucho carbs).”  I certainly can’t picture Jesus biting into a bunless burger or munching on tofu.   

“O.K.” my brother texted back.  “So Jesus ate carbs.  He was skinny to begin with, so it was O.K.”

Ah, to be skinny to begin with!

Day 25: Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

Their parting gift to me was a bottle of appetite suppressants.  While I appreciated that, I would have also wanted something non-perishable.   The glued-together plastic broccoli or beans that served as a visual of what one carb and one protein portion looked like would have been fine.  That is something I could have kept in the kitchen as a constant reminder and a source of inspiration.  Better yet, if they made those broccoli or beans magnetic they could have also held up the numerous pieces of paper that end up on our refrigerator door. 

At the last session, I was also initiated into one of the center’s secrets—their maintenance program. Six months on their maintenance program cost the same as one month on their regular program.  Consumer beware!  Always ask for alternative, less expensive options when you sign up for something that’s anything but.  I paid $360 to lose 4.2 pounds—so that’s about $86 per pound lost. 

I realize that many people lose much more than that during the first month and thus lower their dollar-per-pound ratio.  I’m not looking for a crash diet.  I’m not doing this to look good for a wedding or a reunion.  I’m in it for a slow-to-moderate sustained weight loss. 

All in all it was a brief and sweet good-by.  No pressure to stay a member or “you’re nothing without us” implication.  Instead there was a hope that I’ll come back for the maintenance program.  I’m determined to do a month solo first.

I left the center lighter on my feet, the appetite suppressants in my purse giggling with my every step.

Days 23-24: Cutting The Umbilical Cord

Tomorrow is my last appointment with the country-club diet center.  It’s not really at a country club.  Just the price of it is.  After a month of supervised food and carb deprivation, I’m planning to continue on my own.  This means no more weekly 15-minute consults with nutritionists and no more weigh-ins on the machine that can tell me my body fat limb-by-limb.

But before I cut the umbilical cord, I must give the center credit.  I had a really hard time staying on a diet for more than a day in the last few years.  With the center’s help, my diet’s lasted almost 4 weeks and hopefully will continue to last. 

While I couldn’t have started on the road well-travelled without the center’s support, I’ve also realized that the diet and weight-loss process is really about me and not the 15-minute weekly conversations with nutritionists. 

Of course, if I gain the weight back or stop shedding pounds, I will go back to the womb.  In the meantime, I will attempt to motivate myself with the money I’ll be saving on the diet center membership. 

Day 22: The Day After

Want to know what happened the day after I dreamed of éclairs, cream puffs, and flower-barfing babies?  Saturday night my husband and I tried to grab a quick healthy dinner at a specialty coffee house before running off to a movie.  It’s the “order-at-the-register-we’ll-bring-the-food-to-you” type of place. Starving and true to the diet, I ordered a chopped salad with chicken. Unfortunately, that particular night dinner wasn’t coming quickly.  The employees of the coffee shop were having problems loading my husband’s reward card with additional cash as well as figuring out how many reward points he’s earned.  My husband spent most of the dinner standing at the register as three different employees tried and failed to do anything with his card.

I was sitting at the table by myself when the food arrived.  I had to go find my husband and tell him that if he continues to wait for logic and justice at the cash register, his dinner will get cold. My husband let whoever was in charge know exactly how unhappy he was about the situation.  And what did the manager do to lessen our pain?  He promised us something extra on the house.  The something extra turned out to be only their best dessert—the tres leches.  After we finished dinner, the waiter placed a see-through cup with a magnificent-looking whipped-cream-on-top-of-a-dipped-twice-in-something-decadent-sponge cake on the table in-between my husband and I.  To add insult to injury, he gave us not one but two spoons.

I felt like I was on the set of “What Would You Do?"--the show that hires actors to create really sticky situations for the unsuspecting public to see how the unsuspecting public reacts.  Luckily, there weren’t any cameras around shooting a documentary of a woman on a low-carb, low-sugar diet being tempted with the best dessert a place had to offer.  What did I do?  Well, I ate half of the insanely delicious three-layered dessert and enjoyed every layer.

 

That night, I decided to never again tempt myself with images of dessert as I was falling asleep.  No, I must cross those images out with a red X and visualize cauliflower.  Maybe then, my husband will be able to pay for my salad quickly and I will not succumb to an incredible dessert.

Since this blog is somewhat confessional, I must admit I had a few handfuls of my husband’s pop corn at the movie theater (another no-no because of the starch-a.k.a carbs—in corn.)  Something tells me I’ll be dreading getting on the scale Thursday.

Days 21-22: Sweet Dreams

Friday night as I was drifting off to sleep, my fatigued, carb-deprived brain started to flash images of eclairs and cream puffs.  Never mind the full-fat eclairs at bakeries and coffee shops--at this point I'd settle for the Weight Watchers brand they no longer manufacture.

Go ahead and partake, I told myself.  It's only in your mind and has no calories.  Then I worried that I had underestimated the power of the mind--what if my imaginary eclair consumption was so convincing to my brain that it started sending out signals to my body to accumulate calories and fat from the mythical eclair?  Don't be silly, I told myself and drifted off to sleep.

As a woman of vivid imagination, I get the weirdest dreams.  That night, I dreamed that I was surrounded, pestered actually, by fairies who wanted my help in being born as children.  You knew that a baby was previously a fairy if she opened her mouth and had red and white rose petals cascade out of it in slow motion.  Now there's an idea for Anne Geddes! 

What do babies who gracefully vomit fresh rose petals have to do with my diet?  I have no idea.  I'm not about to eat flowers, although I should probably eat more things that grow--like broccoli or cauliflower (ah, there's something that sounds like a flower.)  Maybe the dream was telling me to visualize vegetables as I fall asleep instead of eclairs.

Days 17-20: Yes!

Yes, Virginia, I can lose weight!  So far 4 pounds, in three weeks on the diet. During my weekly appointment with a nutritionist yesterday I vowed to submit myself to the same deprivation and hunger as last week--the week that resulted in me shedding 2.4 pounds.  I don't think this drop will be easily detected in the "before" and "after" pictures.  It's the kind of weight loss only my mother would notice (thanks, Mom!)

Today I'll proudly say that when the kids drag me inside a kiddie pool, I'll displace less water, leaving more for all the children and mothers.  Ah, to do something for the rest of the humanity and the planet!

My midsummer plight continues!

Days 15-16: Low or High Carbs?

The low-carb diet honeymoon is over.  "This is a hard diet," I whined Saturday.  "It's so hard to give up carbs!!!" 

A sympathetic friend told me about a carb-based vegetarian diet, Engine 2, that did wonders for one of her relatives.  For those of you who, like me, have never heard of Engine 2 before and think that perhaps "engine" refers to a fast metabolism and "2" to an alternative way to lose weight--you think too much!  The diet was started by Engine 2 firemen somewhere in Texas.  Apparently the guys were able to lose weight and get healthy by cutting out beef and other meats from their diets. 

That's great for Engine 2 men!  They are to be commanded!  But I am not a 6 foot 2 fireman who easily extinguishes carbs.  I'm a 5 foot 2 woman who wears her carbs and avoids flames as much as possible.  The Engine 2 diet reminded me of my quasi-hippy vegetarian days in Southern California.  Years ago, I strictly followed a vegetarian diet but, alas, did not shed a pound.  Whereas I lost 1.6 pounds in two weeks on the low-carb diet.  Low-carb it is! 

P.S. Had a bunless burger for dinner last night.  Not bad!

Days 13-15: The Course

What's more humiliating than admitting defeat?  Admitting it on a public blog for everyone to read.  Blinded by the success of the first week, I jumped on the scale yesterday, expecting another three pound loss.  Instead, my weight climbed 1.4 pounds, bringing my total two-week loss down to 1.6 pounds.

Surely the mental fog brought on by the summer cold and allergies contributed to the more liberal food choices and portions. Or (sensibilities aside) perhaps my monthly visitor, which usually makes me feel like I'm carrying a watermelon in my stomach, was my saboteur. 

My husband took my weight-gain announcement in stride.  "You go down, you go up--that's how weight loss works," he assured me. 

I suppose, as in love, the course of true weight loss " . . . never did run smooth,"* especially in a midsummer time diet.
 

*William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

Day 12: Diet Gangnam Style?

Day 12: Diet Gangnam Style?

I overdid it with pistachios again today by partaking in a portion twice the size of the daily allowance.  In the future, I should probably force myself to do a minute of Gangnam-style moves for every pistachio that constitutes an over-dose. (Didn’t I see PSY dancing them off on T.V.?)   

But not today.  I seem to be fighting off a summer cold.  Achoo!  Oh, my poor sore throat!  Just thinking of moving that rapidly and intensely is enough of a deterrent to stay away from more pistachios.  Another deterrent is thinking how cute those little green creatures in beige suits are.  Who would be nutty-enough to cause them harm by eating them?  Like in the T.V. commercial, I can picture them growing arms and legs and running as fast as they can away from me.  “Run, run as fast we can,” they say, “you can’t catch us, the pistachio men.”  Oh, yes I can!  But I won’t.

Days 9-11: A Discouraging Word

I read dire and discouraging words yesterday. In a preamble to her new book, Big Brother, Lionel Shriver quotes The Eating Disorder Foundation saying that “the dieting industry is the only business in the world that has a 98% failure rate.”   Not knowing exactly how the Foundation defines success and failure, I assumed they meant that only 2% of people who go on diets reach their ideal weight and maintain it for the rest of their lives. 

Instead of focusing on the grim statistic, I decided to give my full attention to anecdotal evidence--to numerous stories of people losing weight later in life for health reasons and keeping it off to both prolong life and increase the quality of life.  For now, those stories are my source of inspiration. 

Day 8: The Day of Reckoning

Friday was my first weekly follow-up appointment with the diet center.  After a day of BBQs and night of fireworks, I woke up to the realization that I had to face the scale squarely in the eye. I stood in front of a highly sophisticated machine that looked like it could launch me into space.  The uber scale was capable of measuring body mass and fat of each limb individually.  Friday, however, the nutritionist chose the low-tech function, identical to that of a bathroom scale. In few seconds, that felt like 5 minutes, the device registered a 2.9 pound loss!  Not bad for the first week!

Day 7: Not All Vegetarian Burgers Are Created Equal!

Cheese seemed to be oozing out of my fresh from-the-microwave vegetarian patty, a mosaic of different grains.  Vegetarian sources of protein, such as vegetarian burgers, are included in my diet list. I took a few brave bites before fishing the box out of the trash can. 

 

My burger contained rice, oats, and various other grains glued together by low-fat mozzarella.  “You’re not supposed to have rice and oats!” my brain sounded an alarm.  Sometime, somewhere, someone told me that a garden burger is grains and veggies whereas a soy or bocca burger is, well, soy.  While I heard that somewhere, it never really registered in my meat-burger mind.  Now I learned the hard way--in a way I will never forget.

 

Day 6: Slimed!

Arugula, my staple, my salvation, went bad in the unopened plastic bag before the “best by” date. Arugula is one of the diet’s “free foods” which I don’t have to record in my journal. I can eat as much of it as my heart desires—and my heart has never desired more than two full salad bowls at a time.  I couldn’t believe I was undermined, “slimed,” by a bag of leaves!

The premature deterioration left me scrambling for a “free” food to supplement my chicken breast dinner.  In desperation, I turned to a frozen vegetable mix.  A little olive oil, a little garlic, a few spoonfuls of horseradish, some chopped red onion along with sprinkles of cayenne pepper, and I didn’t have to open the sweet sauce that came with the veggies, thus avoiding unnecessary sugar.

The stir fry was filling but required a watchful eye during consumption.  I had to fish out sliced carrots and water chestnuts--both no-no’s on the diet--from my plate and offer them to my greatful husband.

Arugula, I await you in your inexperienced, youthful state!

 

Day 5: Of Scales and Such

During a doctor's appointment Tues, I had to jump on the much-dreaded scale.  The scale sighed and started to register my weight. When I finally had the courage to look down at the uncompromising, climbing digits by my toe nails, I realized that I lost 1.4 pounds in four days! 

I hope this success doesn't go to my head to the point where I'm so happy, I start gaining weight back. 

Can she handle this?  How much more will she lose in the following 4 days?  Stay tuned . . .

Day 4: An Evening with a Rockstar

Dinner was good last night despite agreeing with the diet.  I added sun dried tomatoes, walnuts, and chopped red onions to arugula.  The microwaved salmon, the size of a standard bar of soap, melted in my mouth.

Once I finished stuffing myself with arugula, which I devoured before and after salmon, I realized that this low-carb feast would be incomplete without a desert.  My options were sugar free Cool Whip, sugar free Jell-O, or sugar free Cool Whip on top of sugar free Jell-O.

So, I reached for a cold 16-ounce can of sugar free Rockstar.  After all, it tastes like candy and gives you energy--something I lack from the late afternoon slump to bedtime. My husband raised his eyebrows.

Sipping the cold drink slowly through a straw, I felt the life force coming back to me with every bubbly swallow.  I cleared the dinner table, talked to the twins, and, at 8 pm, settled for my only week night of mindless television.

I stopped drinking Rockstar at about 9:30 pm, right as the Bachelorette was going through another trauma with one of the young men.  "No problem!" I told myself.  I've been able to nap after a cup of coffee--there's no reason why I shouldn't sleep well tonight. 

As for the Bachelorette, this one seems to cry a lot--every time she learns the true nature of one of her beaus.  Why doesn't anyone tell her to be happy about dogging another bullet?  The preview of next week's show makes it look like she's sending all the young men home.

Whether it was carb deprivation or the Rockstar boost, I truly felt sad for the Bachelorette. As I was falling asleep, I prayed for her to find a love connection wherever it may be.

I finally drifted off to what felt like restful sleep.  I woke up only two hours later. I looked at the clock and commanded myself to return to slumber.  Two hours later, I woke up again. Unfortunately, that became the night's pattern.  I was in bed for eight hours--which means I woke up four times throughout the night.  No more evenings with Rockstars for me!

Day 3: Carbs and the Human Progress

Sunday I tasted the low-carb pancakes for the first time. The batter consisted exclusively of eggs and protein powder.  The pancakes tasted like . . . an omelet with syrup on top (sugar free of course.)  So, that's why my six-year-old daughter didn't want to eat the pancakes I prepared for her a few days ago!  I apologized profusely to her.

For lunch, I consumer half-a-cup of low-fat ricotta.  Who knew it tasted so good, almost decadent?

After two snacks of low-fat string cheese wrapped in thin slices of deli turkey, I had one meal left. 

By 7 pm, I was exhausted and irritable.  I couldn't move.  I wanted to give my son a life-long consequence for not cleaning his room. 

A bowl of arugula with low-fat dressing hardly hit the spot. That's when I decided to consume a minuscule piece of pizza and a stale chocolate chip cookie, no more than two inches in diameter.  My transformation was instantaneous.  The low-energy ills perished.   I got off the couch and told my son to at least try to clean his room. "Heaven!" my brain was broadcasting to my body.  "This is soooo good!!!!" 

The proponents of low-carb diets say that we need to go back to eating the way humans did eons ago, before bread, pasta, and cookies became a part of our lives--the good old days when we, as hunters, consumed primarily meat, nuts, and vegetables. 

Did any of the low-carb evangelist consider that in those days we didn't have i-phones, i-pads, and therapy?  Back in those days, we didn't think much of the consequences of our actions.  Nor were we capable of creating advanced technological devices.  

It's a fact that, deprived of carbs, some begin to experience depression.  It's also a fact that software engineers and computer programmers live on cola, pizza, and candy bars. 

Could it be that our increased carb and sugar consumption was so beneficial to our brains that it enabled the technological revolution and higher self-awareness? 

I marked my diversion from the diet in the food journal.  I'll be back on the low-carb diet Monday morning.